My master's master, part two
By sonofjack, sonofjackwell@gmail.com
I learn more about my master's new lover


This is Part Two. The first part of this story, "My Master's Master", can be
found in "Diana's Library, Miscellaneous Thirty Two".

_______________________________________________

    I'm not usually the fainting type, but what can I say? It had been a
trying night. First I'm confronted with the news that my greatest fear had
come true-that my wife-master Megan had found someone else. Then Megan tells
me that the "someone else" is a woman. I'm not a prude at all, and I don't
have anything against lesbians. Still it came as something of a shock since I
had no idea that Megan was a switch hitter. THEN I'm told that Megan, my
absolute master, the woman whose commands I obey instantly without hesitation,
is the subordinate of her new lover, some woman named Laurie. This news made
my head spin.

   However, that isn't what caused me to faint. I didn't lose
consciousness until I was told WHY Megan was the slave and Laurie was the
master. According the Megan-frankly I still find it hard to believe-Laurie is
in charge of their relationship because she is even stronger than Megan!

   You have to understand, I assumed that Megan was the strongest person on
Earth. She processed the kind of super-strength that I didn't think existed
outside of comic books and movies. I've personally witnessed her lifting a
car over her head with one hand. I've seen her bend steel bars. She can do
these things and more with her incredible strength despite being a remarkably
beautiful and feminine looking woman.

   When Megan told me that she didn't know how or why she possessed
super-strength, I figured that she was like some kind of prodigy-like the way
Mozart was naturally gifted at music or the way Dustin Hoffman's character in
Rainman instinctively knew math. I figured that Megan was not only a "genius
of strength", but that she was the greatest one alive.

   She thought so as well. About six weeks before learning the news about
Laurie, during one of our love-making sessions, I said that Megan was "the
strongest person on Earth". She agreed that it must be so even though it
hadn't "been definitively proven." That must mean that either she hadn't met
Laurie yet or that she didn't know that Laurie was stronger than her yet.

   When I woke up, I was lying on our bed. Megan must have placed me here
since I had fainted in the living room. The room was mostly dark, but there
was a shaft of light coming from the hallway because the hallway light was on
and the bedroom door was slightly ajar. I could hear Megan in the hallway
talking to someone.

   "Okay then, Friday night it is. I can't wait to see you, Sweetie." I
realized that she must have been talking to Laurie on the phone. There was a
girlish quality-almost a squeal-in her voice that I don't think I'd ever heard
before. Hearing my wife call someone "Sweetie"-especially with so much
enthusiasm-was enough to break my heart. As a tear rolled down my cheek, the
shaft of light from the hall widened.

   In a low whisper Megan asked, "Are you awake yet?"

   Sitting up I said, "Yes."

   "Yes, who?" she asked. Our custom for as long as we had been married
was for me to address her as "Master" whenever we were in the bedroom. It was
a custom that had never bothered me before. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. Up
until now I liked being Megan's slave and enjoyed her dominance over me. The
mild humiliation of having to address her as "Master" whenever we were in the
bedroom was a turn-on. In fact, the usual custom was that I crawled on my
hands and knees in the bedroom until Megan gave me permission to do otherwise.

   The ever-present implied threat was that Megan would use her
super-strength to punish me if I failed to obey her instructions. The truth
was, Megan had only actually punished me a few times, and those punishments
consisted of bending my wrists so that I was driven to my knees # la the
children's game "mercy". Once, she actually spanked me, but not very hard.
It was the knowledge that she COULD spank me much harder if she wanted to that
kept me in line.

   The truth is, if Megan wanted to, she could beat me to a pulp with
ease. I'm pretty sure she could do the same to the Green Bay Packers without
much more effort. As strange as it may sound to others, her frequent threats
of punishment and acts of intimidation-such as lifting me over her head with
one hand or giving me orders while bending a crowbar in half-were more
flirtatious than anything else. She knew I liked being intimidated by her
awesome power, and she enjoyed using her awesome power to intimidate me.

   This is my roundabout way of saying that for the first time in our
marriage I didn't feel like calling her "Master" while we were in the bedroom,
and I seriously contemplated telling her so and seeing what would happen?
That's why, in response to her question, I replied, "Yes, Megan."

   I could see her beautiful eyes start to squint and her luscious, full
lips tighten. Slowly, menacingly, she walked over to me. "Who?" she asked.

   "Megan," I replied, "That's your name isn't it?"

   She raised one eyebrow. "I can see that someone's feeling very brave
tonight."

   I couldn't tell if she was really getting ready to pulverize me or
whether we were dancing our normal intimidation waltz-with her leading,
naturally. I didn't feel like giving in if it was the latter, but I also
didn't want to get the shit beat out of me. Finally, I decided just to ask
her.

   "Would you really beat me up, Megan?" I looked her straight in the
eye. I must have looked pretty pathetic. As a tear rolled down my cheek, she
reached over and wiped it gently away with her hand.

   "No, Baby," she said. She sat down on the bed beside me and put her arm
around me. "I wouldn't really beat you up." Then she added, "I thought you
liked it when I made you call me 'Master' and intimidated you." Then with an
actual sad tremble in her voice she said, "I thought you liked being my little
slave."

   "I do, Master, my sweet, strong master. It's just that . . . ."

   "I know it's a lot to take in," she said. "And it's going to mean some
changes around here. But I want you to know that I still love you very much,
and I'm still proud to have you as my slave-husband."

   "Thank you, Master," I said. The crazy thing is that I was sincerely
grateful! I was glad that my servitude-my utter and complete bondage to
her-made her proud.

   "It's been a long day; why don't we try to get some sleep and talk more
in the morning," Megan suggested.

   "That's a good idea," I agreed. A few minutes later the lights were
out. I wanted so much to reach out to Megan, my wife, my life, but I wasn't
sure if I should under the circumstances.

   In the darkness she pressed her lips against my cheek, kissed me and
whispered, "Good night my precious slave." Then she wrapped her powerful arms
around me and squeezed me to her body. I could feel her large breasts against
me. I could feel the sway of her womanly hips as she shifted her body. I
could feel her warm, sweet breath on my cheek as she exhaled. It all felt
perfect.

   After about a minute, I whispered, "Can I just ask you something?"

   "Sure, Baby," she replied.

   "Does she make you call her 'Master'?"

   "No, but I have to do what she says."

   "Does she call you 'Slave'?"

   "No . . . she prefers to call me her bitch."

   The next morning when I woke up, I was surprised to find that Megan was
already out of bed. I stumbled into the kitchen to find her sitting at the
table in her bathrobe drinking coffee. "Honey, you should have woken me up if
you wanted coffee," I said.

   "What? You didn't know I was capable of working the coffee maker?" she
asked. Actually, I didn't know, but I didn't say anything.

   "How did you sleep?" I asked.

    "Pretty well considering; you?"

    "Fine." I always slept well when I was snug in my master's strong
arms. This is something I normally would have told her, but somehow it seemed
like an awkward thing to say now. I wondered if things would ever get back to
the way they used to be. This reminded me of how much we still had to talk
about. "What do you want for breakfast?" I asked.

    "You know what I like," she said. Megan liked to eat a hardy
breakfast. This is one of the things I really liked about her. Megan enjoyed
food, and she could really pack it away when she wanted to. She never seemed
to gain an ounce as a result either. She remained trim and sexy. I guess
this was part of her remarkable metabolism that made her the supergirl of my
dreams.

    I started making her a breakfast of a three-egg cheese and onion
omelet, five slices of bacon, two slices of lightly buttered toast cut
diagonally and half a grapefruit.

    "Baby, where's my freshly squeezed orange juice?"

    "I'm sorry, Honey," I said, stopping what I was doing to attend to
that first. "Say, hadn't you better start getting ready for work?" I asked.

    "I'm not going in today; I'm taking a personal day." For the second
time in twenty-four hours I almost fainted! Megan NEVER missed work. Since
she never got sick, she never took sick days, and personal days?
Forgetaboutit. Megan was a person who liked routines-except when it came to
our sex life-so for her to break her routine . . . . The surprise must have
registered on my face because after a few seconds she said by way of
explanation, "I thought it was important for me to stay home today so that
could talk."

    "That's probably a good idea," I agreed.

    Then she added, "There are a few things that we have to get
straight." This was her way of reminding me who was in charge-as if I could
forget.

    In short order, I prepared and served Megan her breakfast and fetched
the morning paper for her. Then I sat down and ate my modest breakfast of a
slice of toast and half a grapefruit. To be honest, I'm not crazy about
grapefruit, but Megan liked half a fresh grapefruit in the morning and I
didn't like to let the other half go to waste. Personally I've never been
much of a breakfast eater. Occasionally I'll have a slice of bacon or two in
the morning. I do love bacon, but unlike Megan, it makes me fat, and Megan
prefers me fit and trim.

    After we finished Megan said, "Why don't you clear the table so we can
talk. Save the dishes for later." I did what I was told and then sat down at
the kitchen table opposite her. "Okay, what do you want to know?" she asked.

    "How did you two meet?"

    "As I told you, we met at the gym. It was about a month ago. I was
going through my usual routine when she walked up to me. I'd seen her there a
couple of times before and noticed how pretty she was and what great shape she
was in. I've never really been attracted to another woman before, but I
noticed that she had really nicely toned muscles. As you know, I've never
been impressed by big muscles because, hey, I don't have spectacularly big
muscles and even so, I'm the strongest person I know." Then she thought a
second and said, "Well, the second strongest."

    I couldn't help but notice that when she said this last part, she had
a wistful smile on her face. I could tell that Megan was thinking about
Laurie, and that the thought delighted her. A wave of jealousy swept over me
so I snapped, "She walked up to you. What then?"

    Megan looked at me with narrowing eyes. "Listen, Mister, don't you
use that tone with me. Last night I told you I wouldn't beat you up, but that
doesn't mean that I'll put up with that kind of disrespect. We both know that
I can easily put you in your place without having to actually beat you up,
right?"

    I lowered my eyes.

    "I asked you a question, Slave."

    "Right," I said in a barely audible voice, "But you have to
understand that this is hard for me to hear."

    "You ask me so I'm telling you. Do you want to hear this story or
not?"

    "Yes, but-"

    "No 'buts', either you want to know or you don't."

    "I want to know," I said quietly.

    "Fine; but keep in mind who's the boss around here."

    "Yes, Master," I said, my head down not daring to look her in the
eyes.

    "Okay. Where was I? So she comes up to me and introduces herself.
She said that she noticed that I was really fit, and I admitted that I'd
noticed her too. Now you know that I usually don't like to be disturbed at
the gym and that I don't go there to socialize."

    This was true. Megan regularly came home with stories about men
approaching her at the gym trying to hit on her and/or show off. She usually
quickly put them in their place by casually lifting twice or three times
whatever weight they were lifting. This always managed to scare them off.

    Megan continued her story, "For some reason, though, I didn't try to
get rid of Laurie. I was somehow intrigued by her. I think it was her
confidence that first drew me to her. Anyway, a few minutes into our
conversation, SHE challenged ME to a weight lifting contest. I thought this
was really funny, and I assumed that I would make short work of her like I did
with all my other opponents. This time was different though; I didn't want to
defeat her just to get rid of her. I wanted to impress her.

    "I started to walk over the free weights when she stopped me. I'll
never forget what she said, 'I don't think there are enough free weights in
this gym to give you much of a challenge.' Then she added, 'I've been
watching you.'"

    "It really interested me that she had some idea of how strong I was
and yet was still challenging me, so I asked her what she had in mind. She
suggested that we go out to the parking lot, and I agreed. When we got there
she told me to pick which car I wanted to lift first!"

    I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I was still skeptical that
anyone could match Megan's super-strength. Despite myself, I found myself
getting caught up in the story. "So what happened?"

    "She matched me car for car!" Megan replied. As she recounted the
story Megan's breathing got noticeably deeper, and she was clearly becoming
aroused.

    "She matched you," I said, "But you said she was stronger."

    "When we established that none of the cars in the parking lot were
going to settle our contest, she took me to a nearby construction site and
proceeded to kick my ass!" I glanced under the table as Megan said this and
noticed that, sure enough, her toes were curling as she talked about Laurie's
superior power. "I couldn't believe my eyes. Laurie was going around the
site and one-by-one lifting all the heavy construction vehicles. Dump trucks
full of bricks, bulldozers, cranes-it was incredible; she made it look so
easy."

    "But maybe you can lift those things too," I said with a little too
much desperation in my voice.

    "Don't you think I tried?"

    "And . . . you couldn't?" I was crestfallen. I didn't like the
thought of anyone humbling my master. Megan, however, had a different take on
the matter.

    "No. She was magnificent-like a goddess. I knew right then that I
had to be with her. I asked if I could feel her awesome biceps. She wouldn't
let me at first, but I begged her until she consented. Before long we were
making love right there on the construction site on a mound of dirt behind the
big crane-the same crane that I'd seen my goddess lift over her head. Since
that time, Laurie has been like an addiction to me. I can't get enough of
her,"

    "Have you been seeing a lot of her?" I asked. This seemed impossible
since she hadn't been coming home late or going out at night.

    "No, I've only been with her a handful of times; I've taken a few long
lunches and skipped a couple of visits to the gym. It's mostly been stolen
moments."

    "Why only stolen moments?" I asked.

    "It's hard to explain. I don't think you'll understand."

    "Try me."

    "Well, Laurie has a busy schedule and has had a hard time fitting me
in."

    "A busy work schedule?" I asked. There had to be more to it than
this. How could anyone turn down the opportunity to have sex with the most
desirable woman on the planet because of a busy work schedule?

    "No, not work." Megan was searching for the right way to explain it.
Finally she said, "I-I'm not her only bitch. She's got several already and
she had a hard time squeezing me in."

    "Not her only . . . ?" I couldn't even bring myself to say it. How
could my fantasy supergirl allow herself to be abused like this? It was
beyond comprehension. I was so outraged I could hardly see straight. "Megan,
let's get one thing straight: you're nobody's bitch!"

    "Yes, I am; I'm Laurie's bitch." She said in a calm, steady voice.

    "No! I won't accept that!"

    "Listen, Sweetie, first of all, you're not the one who tells me the
way it is. I'm the one who tells you. I know that this reaction you're
having is out of your love for me, so I'll forget it this once, but don't ever
say 'Let's get one thing straight' to me again. I mean it. And whether you
accept it or not, I AM her bitch. Do you have any idea how much I had to beg
and plead to get her to find any time for me at all? I'm PROUD to be one of
her bitches. If waiting in line is the price I have to pay to be with her,
then I'll wait in line. Maybe I wish it were different, but it's out of my
control. Laurie is the boss. So you either get with the program, or we'll
have to make other arrangements."

    I was afraid of what 'other arrangements' might mean. "I'm only . . .
. It's just that you deserve the best, Master."

    "Thank you for saying so, Sweetie."

    "I just can't stand the thought of someone not appreciating you.
Doesn't she know how lucky she is?"

   "You're protective of your master aren't you?" she asked. I nodded. "I
know you are, and I love you for it. I probably don't tell you this often
enough, Baby, but I know how hard you work to serve me, and I appreciate it.
I don't know; maybe she doesn't deserve me. All I know is that's she's got me
for as long as she wants. I'm sorry, Baby. Maybe I wish it wasn't this way,
but when it comes to Laurie, I have no will of my own."

    The ironic thing was that I knew exactly how she felt. This is
exactly the way I felt about her. I understood what it was like to worship a
goddess. It occurred to me that Laurie was MY muscle goddess's muscle
goddess. Who was I to say it was wrong? I knew how great it felt to have a
living goddess to worship. How could I deny Megan that same pleasure? But
still there was something bothering me.

    "I'll do my best to accept things, Master, except for one thing. No
matter what anyone says, you are not her 'bitch'."

    A look of aggravation come over Megan's face like I had never seen
before. "God dammit!" She said through clenched teeth, "If Laurie says I'm
her bitch then I AM!" As she said this she slammed her fist down on the
kitchen table completely demolishing it. Then she stood up and grabbed me by
the collar and lifted me over her head with one hand.

    As I explained earlier, Megan often used her fearsome strength to
intimidate me, but this was way beyond intimidation. For the first time since
knowing Megan, I was seriously scared for my life. As I dangled there in the
air I could tell by the look on her face that Megan was seriously close to
going back on her assurance of the night before not to beat the ever-loving
shit out of me. This was crazy; just seconds ago she was lovingly telling me
how much she appreciated me. Now because I dared to contradict Laurie-a woman
I'd never even met-she threatened to crush me. I didn't know what to say. I
knew that the next few seconds might very well determine whether I spent the
night in my own bed, the hospital or the morgue. I did what any sane man
would do at a moment like this. I pissed myself.

    Megan held me aloft for a few more seconds then dropped me in my own
urine puddle and said, "Clean that up then clean yourself up." Then she went
and got her credit card and threw it on the floor next to me. "THEN go out
and buy a new table. I'm going to the gym." I wondered if "going to the gym"
was code for "going to fuck Laurie", but I knew that I'd pushed my luck enough
that day so I remained silent.

     Four hours later when Megan got home from the gym (or wherever she
went), the first thing she asked is, "Where's the new table?" She didn't ask,
"Are you okay, Baby?" or "You didn't get hurt when I dropped you did you?"
No, it was just, "Where's the new table?"

    "They're delivering it tomorrow." There was really no rush to replace
the kitchen table since we usually only used it for breakfast. We had a
dining room table as well that we used for lunch and dinner. "Would you like
an iced tea?" I asked.

    "Yes, get it for me." That I would get it for her was a given. I was
still her slave after all. I could tell that she was just in a mood to exert
her authority.

    Megan spent the rest of the afternoon in her den-the lioness's den I
called it. I could tell that there was still something on her mind-something
that she wanted to tell me, but I knew it was better to let her tell me in her
own time. I just busied myself with my housework and did my best not to
bother her.

    Finally, shortly before dinner, Megan sat on the living room couch and
told me to come in and sit next to her. She looked at me with loving eyes and
said, "I didn't hurt you this morning did I?"

    "No, Master." The rule about calling her master usually only applied
in the bedroom, but I also called her that when I felt it was appropriate. I
continued, "But it would have served me right if you did. You told me how it
was, and I challenged you. That was disrespectful of me. You're the master;
I'm the slave. I deserve whatever punishment you see fit to give me." I
wasn't just saying this to smooth her ruffled feathers. I meant it.

    "Damn," she said, "It's hard to stay mad at you when you're this sweet
and subservient." Then she took me in her impossibly strong arms and hugged
me so hard that she literally took my breath away. When she released me, she
looked at me seriously, and said, "But there's still something I have to tell
you, and you might not like it."

    "It's not my place to like or dislike; it's my place to obey you
without question or hesitation." I was trying hard to be the best slave
possible.

    "The reason I chose NOW to tell you about Laurie is because she's
coming to our house this Friday night. I convinced her-begged and pleaded
really-to give me an entire night. This, of course, is a coveted position
among her stable of bitches." As I listened, I was dying a little bit inside
but somehow managed to remain stoic on the outside. "As part of the incentive
to get her over here I promised her a home cooked dinner. She likes pot
roast."

    There was no question that I would have to prepare this home cooked
dinner. The thought of Megan doing so was ludicrous. Lift a car over her
head with one hand? No problem. Prepare an edible pot roast? No way.
Again, remaining as stoic as possible I asked, "I assume that includes the
little potatoes and the vegetable medley?"

    "Yes, exactly," she gushed, "And could you prepare something
special-maybe a peach cobbler-for desert?"

    "As you wish'" I replied. "Am I to serve the meal as well?" Please,
say no; please, say no, I thought to myself.

    "God no! I want her to think that I cooked dinner. I'm trying to
impress her." As much as I didn't want to serve Megan and her
girlfriend-master, I inwardly cringed at the thought of her taking credit for
my culinary skills. I'd worked very hard to become a good chef, and I'd done
so to please Megan. Even though this was going to please her it still irked
me. Then she really dropped a bomb. "You're to remain in the guest room on
Friday night with the door closed. You need to find something quiet to occupy
your time because I don't want to hear a peep out of you from the time Laurie
arrives until the time she leaves the next day. Is that clear?"

    "Yes, Master," I replied, more hurt that angry.

    "What did I ever do to deserve you?" she asked. It felt good to at
least be acknowledged.

    "You allow me to bask in the presence of your beauty and your awesome
power," was my sincerely reply.

    "Yes, well my 'awesome power' made you piss yourself this morning,"
she teased.

    I smiled despite myself. "Yes, yes it did."

    "How would you like me to use my 'awesome power' to make another
liquid come out of your dick," she asked with a sexy gleam in her exquisite
eyes.

    "But my casserole's in the oven," I replied.

    She stood up, grabbed me and threw me over her shoulder in one smooth
motion and said, "Let it burn."

    "But, Honey," I protested.

    "Are you going to challenge me again?" she asked in mock anger.

    "No, Ma'am!" I replied. Then Megan, my goddess, my master, my living
fantasy supergirl, carried me into the bedroom and fucked the living daylights
out of me for two hours. Later that night we had a nice cold tuna salad for
dinner.  Then she took me back into the bedroom and fucked me for another two
hours. I fell asleep that night as usual snug in my master's powerful arms.
Blind obedience does have its rewards.

    Thursday was more-or-less a routine day for Megan and me. Neither one
of us mentioned The Big Dinner until around bedtime Thursday night when I went
over the menu for Megan's approval.

    "Laurie tells me she can really pack it away. She told me that she
had an appetite 'like Jethro Bodine'. Isn't that a riot? And you know that I
love to eat, so you please, make a lot of food." She actually said "please"
to me like it was a request. Strange. Then she laughed to herself and
repeated, "Like Jethro Bodine," and said something even more unlikely, "You
know something; I think that if you ever got a chance to meet Laurie you'd
really like her."

    "Does she make you happy?"

    "Very."

    "Then I already like her." I really kind of meant this too. Sure, I
was jealous of Laurie. Yes, I would have preferred it if she were dead. On
the other hand, I'd never seen Megan this giddy before, and though it pained
me to admit it, I knew that I wasn't capable of bringing out this girlish side
to her. So . . . yes, as long as there had to be a Laurie in our lives, I was
glad that she brought pleasure to the woman who was the center of my world.

    I was actually sort of, kind of, in a way, making peace with things
when Megan said, "But you know you can't meet her right?"

    "Yes, Megan."

     "I really mean it. I don't want to hear a peep out of you tomorrow
night-not a peep!"

    "Does she know you're married?" I asked.

    "Yes, but she's willing to overlook it." Ouch. She went on,
"Sweetie, I hope that I'm being clear about this. If you do anything to spoil
this evening for me-even accidentally-I...I don't know what I'll do."

    "I get it," I said.

    "But I want to make sure that you do because I'm afraid of what I
might do to you. If you did anything to ruin my time with Laurie, I can't be
responsible for what might happen. You saw what I did to the table-what I
almost did to you-yesterday." She waited a few seconds for this to sink in.
"If you do anything to make tomorrow even mildly uneasy or awkward, I WILL put
you in the hospital." She was deadly serious.

    "Yes, Master, I've been meaning to catch up on my reading anyway."

    "I'm sorry to have to put it in those terms, Baby, but . . . ."

    "I know, My Love."

    That night in bed Megan drained my body of so much fluid that I nearly
dehydrated. She said she wanted to make sure that this would hold me over
until Saturday. Just before we drifted off to sleep I whispered, "Master?"

    "Yes, Slave."

    "What would you do if Laurie told you to dump me?"

    There was a long silence-a silence in which my world hung in the
balance. "I would try to talk her out of it."

    "What if you couldn't?"

    More silence. With true sadness in her voice Megan replied, "I would
dump you."

    Even though I was lying snug in my goddess's strong arms, I didn't
sleep much that night. 

    Friday night finally came. I was surprised when Megan came home early
from work. I didn't have a beverage ready for her as usual when she walked
in the front door. "I'm sorry, I'll get you an iced tea," I apologized.

    "Never mind, Baby, I'm going to jump in the shower and get ready for
tonight." I'd rarely seen Megan so excited. When she stepped out of the
shower, I was waiting with her iced tea and towel in hand ready to dry her
off. "Never mind that, Baby" she said mildly annoyed. "You have just two
duties tonight. First, make sure that dinner is perfect and on time, and
second,-

    "Banish myself to my room," I finished for her.

    "Exactly! Did you remember to polish the silver and to press the
linen table cloth?"

    "Yes, Master."

    "Oh! Candles! Do we have any candles?"

    "They're already set and ready to go. Matches are on the table."

    "Thanks, Sweetie, you're the best!"

    "Don't you mean second best," I asked.

    "C'mon, Baby, don't pout. You know how much I appreciate you doing
this for me."

    "Yes, Master, I know. I'll just go put the finishing touches on
things."

    Megan emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later wearing the
celebrated little black cocktail dress. It fit her like a second skin. "How
do I look?" she asked. She looked over at me and saw me staring at her with
my mouth half open like a man in a trance. "I guess I look pretty good, huh?"

     "Stunning." It was fascinating seeing Megan like this-acting like a
nervous cheerleader going on her first date with the captain of the football
team. I was used to her supreme self-confidence. I glanced at my watch and
said, "Well, it's about that time. Everything is set and ready to go. I
better get to my room."

    Just then the doorbell rang. "Yes, go to your room, and don't come
out until tomorrow."

The End of Part Two; to be concluded soon in Part Three.